Septim's Legacy
by CorrosiveCourtesyCall
Summary: When a young Barenziah learns of her unborn child's imminent death, her salvation comes in the form of a Daedric Prince. Across time and space she is ferried, but with her assailant - a newborn divine - the Hunt will resume its course in due time. And when a Giant marches with Old Blood from an Old Heart, will a Legacy arise reborn of blood and metal... or be torn asunder?
1. Prologue 1: The Hunt

**Hi. I'm new, and I adopted this from another guy called thesightstillhauntsme. I think he has a new name now, but yeah.**

 **The first chapter is his, but HEAVILY edited. I like TES, and PJ, but I'm not a lore freak, so I'll try my best.**

 **Peace.**

* * *

Tiber Septim: the man who became a Divine.

Many believed him to be the epitome of what man should strive to be, and countless others stated that such talk was blasphemy against the Divines. No mortal being was capable of such a thing, not even the Chimer known as Vivec, and his great powers-that-be.

Tiber Septim: the man who conquered and united all of Tamriel into one Empire.

After the acquisition of a great and powerful artifact of the long-disappeared Dwemer race – the great stone golem Numidium created by Kagrenac, the most praised and revered of Dwemer Tonal Architects – Septim saw the key to bringing the entirety of the continent of Tamriel together. It was controlled by way of a special totem crafted by Septim's personal battlemage, and was powered by a lessened substitute source in place of the original one.

With the power of a machine intended to be a bridge between machine, god, and man, Tiber Septim easily swept through Tamriel and subjugated the land, using the golem to bring all under his heel.

What isn't more commonly known however, was how brutal he was in his actions.

Tiber Septim: the man who enslaved.

Unlike the legends of Skyrim and the Nordfolk who paint Septim as a grand hero, the man was a terrifying beast on the battlefield and even more so on the throne. The great golem Numidium was not only used as a weapon of war, but also as a tool that Septim used to keep his throne secure. He even accused the neutral Tamrielic noble families that they were plotting to overthrow him, and as such brought them all under his rule with terrifying efficiency.

Tiber Septim: the man who betrayed his closest friend.

Long before Septim was called such, he was known as Hjalti Early-Beard the Warrior hailing from the land of Atmorra, who fought tooth and nail to reach the Ruby Throne. Upon his crowing, his longtime friend and ally, Ysmir Wulfharth of the North, demanded that Hjalti – then crowned Septim – set his sights on conquering the land of Morrowind, as Ysmir held a deep hatred for the races of Mer.

Although Septim did attack the province in earnest, he allowed the land to keep its ability to function as its own entity and retain its religious practices – something that infuriated Ysmir to his core. He left the company of Septim, on the insistence that they were still friends but he needed to be alone for some time.

When the time came that Septim needed a new power source for the great golem Numidium, he found that it would only be powered by the soul of a great and powerful warrior; someone with the willpower, stamina, and fortitude matching that of nigh-incomprehensible levels.

The only ones capable were Tiber Septim himself, or his friend Ysmir Wulfharth.

Septim called for his friend, stating that he was ready to sit down with him and discuss what he should've done long ago: place the races of Mer under the boot for good by killing the Tribunal that ruled. They needed to talk once again as friends and allies.

Yet the only talk that transpired that fateful day spoken by the great champion of Man, were a slew of Draconic shouts coupled together that reduced anything within the Warrior's vicinity to ash and rubble.

Once the dust settled and silence filled the air, Tiber Septim walked into the devastation and picked up a black soul gem infused with his friend's soul, which he then promptly inserted into the golem's center, only to discover that the soul of his friend wasn't powerful enough to keep the machine active. He had killed his friend for naught.

And yet… the most heinous and terrible of his atrocities were never written about in history. Instead, Septim had all who knew killed immediately, ensuring that no book would ever know of the misdeed.

Tiber Septim: the man who sent for his unborn child's death.

* * *

"My lady! I…" Queen Barenziah's personal physician gasped with shock.

"What is it? Is there something ill that haunts you Shiriah?" Barenziah hurried over to her longtime servant and friend. The young woman was trembling, seemingly from shock or fright. Which, the Dunmer Queen couldn't tell, but nevertheless she attempted to look over Shiriah in an almost ironic twist.

"M-m-my… Quee-een… you… there's…" Shiriah stammered, her eyes still locked downwards at Barenziah's midriff. The Queen followed her physician's eyes, and saw that they landed directly on her stomach, and she took a step back.

"What is it, Shiriah? Is there something wrong with me? An abnormality? Shy not the truth, I beg you!"

The Bosmer servant looked up to her Queen's eyes, and harshly grabbed her hand to drag her into the safety of her royal quarters with in the White-Gold Tower. Briefly acknowledging the Imperial guards outside of the room, she quickly raced inside and cast a _muffle_ spell on the door. Shiriah sat her Queen down on her extravagant bed, lined with tassels and a canopy and made sure that the windows were closed as well before sitting alongside her.

"My lady," Shiriah began in a hushed tone, despite the spell still in effect on the door, "Before I inquire you further, I beseech you to refuse any falsehoods." Barenziah nodded, slightly frightened by her servant's hushed and hurried words.

Shiriah nodded, before raising a spell in one hand and another to her Mistress's temple. Barenziah blinked once, and suddenly her friend before her was covered in a bright red hue, seemingly giving off the vibrant aura from her innermost being.

" _A 'Detect Life' spell… I remember this,"_ thought the Queen. Shiriah brought the spell down to Barenziah's abdominal area, and the realization of the implication hit the Dunmer at her core as she looked down to see a small speckle of shining crimson stemming from her.

"I… I'm…"

"With child, yes." Shiriah finished what Barenziah herself could not bear to say.

" _No… By all the Aedra above and Daedra below, no!"_

Before the imminent panic attack set itself in her Queen, Shiriah dispelled and took ahold of Barenziah's hands, grasping them gently yet firmly.

"My queen, who lay with you to conceive?" After a moment, Barenziah looked into her servant's eyes, her own alight with tears.

"His Majesty, the Emperor. And he will kill me once he discovers!" Shiriah gasped at the revelation.

"But… how? Why? His wife has provided, why would—" Shiriah stopped midsentence, answering her own question in her mind with a snarl.

"Males! So driven are they of carnal pursuits that they must continuously take and take?!" Shiriah stood, and made to head to the door. "Perhaps I should take something precious of his for my own as well!"

"No!" Cried Barenziah, as she raced to stand in front of the door before Shiriah could exit, breaking the spell laid upon it unintentionally, allowing the _muffle_ spell to disperse and cease its workings. "The fault does not solely lie with the Emperor! I lay with him of my own consent, the fault is mine to bear as well! You must not breathe of this to a single soul, please I beg of you!"

"My lady, what would push you to such an… idiotic act?! The entirety of your kingdom might now be in jeopardy should the king decide your life be forfeit! That child is a threat to his legacy!"

Shiriah spared nothing in her verbal lashing, demanding answers from the young monarch.

"He… promised me that he would treat me as the royalty that I was deserving of… and to help Mer everywhere as to the upmost of his ability. I could not turn down such an opportunity for our people, Shiriah!"

* * *

Outside the un-protected door, the two Imperial guards stationed outside the Queen's door overheard the entire dialogue.

"Should the Emperor be notified?" Asked the younger of the two. He was new to his station, and deferred to his elder in most situations, but his mind and heart were telling him that surely tragedy would befall the Queen should they tell their monarch, and hoped that his superior in this situation would think alike.

It was not so.

"Of course, you dithering fool! The Emperor must know so that he can deal with this slant-eyed freak accordingly! Follow in, we make for Emperor Septim's chambers. Haste!"

The younger guard couldn't help but look on despairingly as the pit in his stomach that seemed to grow larger with each passing second.

The entire situation was going to run afoul, no matter the outcome.

The guard simply wished that he had looked back, and told the Queen to run and never look back.

* * *

After some time had passed, the two women sat together huddled on the bed. Shiriah held frightened young woman in her arms, softly reassuring her with kind words while rubbing her hand in circles on the Queen's back. The only sounds that could be heard were the small sniffles from Barenziah, and wheeling and calling of birds that flew about near the room.

"He… c-can't ev-ever know… or I'll be killed for certain, or worse he will call for my unborn's removal and death! Shiriah. I need to live for our people, and make sure that we keep ourselves in the political schemes of the Empire."

Shiriah simply nodded, comforting the young Dunmer royalty, "Of course my lady. No harm will befall you, I will stake my life on your well-being, this I have sworn my entire life."

As if a final knell tolling out, the Queen's chamber door was knocked on lightly three times.

Both women immediately stood to their feet, Shiriah holding the Queen behind her back whilst calling out, "Who calls?"

"Your lord and Emperor, Tiber Septim." Came the smooth yet rough tones of the Emperor himself. "My dear? Barenziah, are you decent? May I enter?"

Before Barenziah could attempt to answer, Shiriah silenced her with a hand to her mouth and a glare before answering: "My Queen is not here, my lord Emperor. I would gladly share a message to her as her servant, however."

"Are you certain the Queen is not inside? Even after my guards saw you both enter? I don't believe the Queen is capable of flight to have exited off the terrace I think, hmm?" The Emperor sounded terse, so much so that it didn't sit well with Shiriah, who began silently enchanting the wood encompassing the door to the consistency of iron, while directing the queen out of her royal attire and into an easily wearable leather chest piece with leggings on display fitted on a mannequin in the corner of the room.

"I tell you, the Queen is not here. I am but a servant, my lord Emperor." Shiriah continued helping her monarch into the armor piece, buckling the straps as fast as she could.

"Do you take me for a fool?"

The Emperor's tone shifted so rapidly to a most sinister and frightening pitch that both women stopped in their actions momentarily.

"I know of the child, Barenziah. I know that you intended to keep it from me, and I will not have treachery in my house!" Shiriah began buckling again with a renewed vigor, before directing Barenziah over to the balcony that resided outside her room opposite the entrance. With the aid of a _telekinesis_ spell, the servant started to lower her Mistress down to the ground as carefully as she could.

"My lord Emperor, the door is… *hrgg*!"

"If you intend treason to my house as you do, then your stay in my Empire and your life are FORFEIT! Stand aside!" The sounds of shuffling outside the door, lessened. Shiriah was sweating profusely, unable to fully concentrate due to the use of such an expert-level use of magic. She wasn't used to the current magicka strain that she was currently experiencing, and put all of her effort into concentrating on not dropping her Queen.

She was about halfway down the fifty-foot drop when the door was shot inwards with the Emperor's shout.

" **FUS… RO DAH!"**

The enchanted door flew inwards as if it were fired from a catapult. Shiriah never even saw it coming, her eyes trained only on her Queen.

With a sickening **THUD** , the door smashed into Shiriah's form and continued on, crashing through the stone balcony railing and continuing a good sixty feet before landing in the forest area below.

Barenziah would've cried out for her longtime friend, but found the air driven from her as the magical hold on her failed and she dropped like a stone onto the garden area below her bedroom.

The pain was something that the Dunmer woman had never experienced before, and she was almost tempted to curl up into a fetal position and hold her tender body. Instead spurred on by her fear and the adrenaline coursing through her, she hauled herself up off of the dirt, and ran as fast as her body could manage into the forest, all while tears streamed down her face in sadness for her fallen friend and servant.

Barenziah continued running down the forest path, heedless of any passersby she met along the way. Not many knew who she was as very few knew she even existed, but she didn't take any chances, running until she couldn't any longer. Stealing a horse tied up outside of a tavern, Barenziah ignored the shouts of protest from the civilians who witnessed the crime and called for the guardsmen. Without a set of spurs to aid her in riding, she resulted to slapping the horse's haunches as hard as she could, sending the animal into a rough gallop.

She rode until she was out of the city, and breathlessly turned to look back at the gates once she was and briefly ruminated. Everything had been fine close to four hours ago, yet in that time-span her entire life seemed to have been shat out the backside of a dragon.

Barenziah was torn out of her musings by the sight of the gates to the city opening and a regiment of soldiers on horseback came pouring forth. Her eyes widened in terror, and slapped her mount once more into a frantic pace.

* * *

The guards had caught up with Barenziah fantastically quick.

The much seasoned cavalrymen knew their profession like respective masters of their craft, and her own stolen steed was furiously winded from running a longer stretch than that of the Imperial soldiers'. Soon the young Queen found herself lost in the woodlands with a horse that refused to go any farther from sheer exhaustion. Quickly leaving the saddle, she quietly thanked the steed for its service, and ran off of the path, tripping and stumbling all the way.

She could hear the soldiers in the distance behind her as they came upon the shed horse, and raced as fast as she could in whatever direction she could.

Eventually the wounded and exhausted Dunmer noble collapsed, her feet giving way and her body tumbling head over heels down a large hill. Landing in the shade of a derelict statue, the beleaguered woman couldn't take it anymore and wept.

She wept for her closest friend and servant, who died protecting her.

She wept for the unborn life that resided inside of her, who might not see the light of day.

She wept for her family who she might not ever see again.

She wept for her people, whom she simply wanted to protect and serve.

Lastly, she wept everything that might've been if she simply didn't give into her own desires.

…

" _ **Ahhh… It's been awhile since I've felt the pull of the Hunt."**_

Barenziah scrambled to her feet, terrified of the booming voice that seemed to echo all around her.

" _ **It saddens me to see that my great Hunt is conducted upon a hapless woman, and not for the sake of more sturdy and dangerous prey…"**_ hissed the voice.

"Who goes there? Show yourself, if you yet be friend!" A terrified Barenziah cried out.

" _ **A**_ _ **HAHAHAHA! You'd best keep quiet, young one. Your hunters will surely follow you if your voice gives yourself away."**_

The voice came from all directions, from everywhere yet nowhere at all. Barenziah spoke again, albeit softer and more to herself.

"Who are you to frighten me so?"

" _ **Hmph! You stand beneath my very visage, yet you don't have the mind to grasp for my title? Typical mortals. 'Promising' and 'disappointing' both seem to go hand in hand with you, don't they?"**_

" _Visage? Perhaps…"_ Barenziah turned to look at the statue that she had come to lay under for a short period, revealing it to be not a simple overgrown statue, but of that depicting the Daedric Prince of The Hunt and patron to all were-beasts:

Hircine.

" _ **Ah, and so recognition dawns on you at last. Well met, Queen Barenziah Taeylis of the Dunmer. You are the first to visit this shrine in a very long time."**_

In her shock, Barenziah fell to her knees quickly in reverence, all too eager to attempt to please the dremora.

"My lord Hircine! Forgive me, would that I had known that this was your shrine—"

" _ **Arise, mortal. The Hunt never stops, and it seems that yours is drawing to a close."**_

"What?" Barenziah turned around quickly, hearing the sounds of men and horses trudging through the forest in her direction. The Queen turned to the Shrine's depiction, fear written plainly on her face.

"My lord, I have neither gold nor jewels carried with me, but the life of an unborn child within my bosom. I beg of you, protect us from the wrath of the Emperor and his guards; hide us away from those whom would take this unborn's life!"

" _ **And tell me, why would I do this, even if I were able to carry out such a task?"**_ The voice of the Daedric Prince sounded slightly put off, as if Barenziah had asked them to stab his own toe with his spear.

"Because," whispered the Queen, "the life within me is that of the Emperor's legacy. The blood of the great dragons of old will run through their veins, and they are a threat to everything that Tiber Septim has constructed."

At this mentioning, the Daedric Prince grew silent, not speaking to the Dunmer whatsoever. Barenziah briefly wondered if she had offended the Daedra, but at the sounds that came from behind her, she shrank back against the shrine in terror.

Out of the forest and into the clearing in which the shrine was located, the Imperials that came forward seemed to be following Barenziah's trail.

The Queen closed her eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable.

…

But it never came.

"I've drained myself again, _clairvoyance_ tasks me of my magicka something fierce. Let us hold but a moment, and the trail will be shown again."

"We cannot tarry you sodding idiot, that knife-ear is wanted by the Emperor himself. We cannot fail a direct command."

"At ease, Decimus. We can afford the elf a few minutes. Her steed is no more, and she wanders on foot through treacherous terrain. Terrain that we know well, I will add."

"Yes, Quaestor."

Barenziah couldn't believe her eyes! The platoon of Imperials should've easily seen her, she was but a few feet from their eyes. The only possible explanation…

" _ **A legacy of Septim's? This is…"**_ The Daedra mused, before seemingly reasserting himself.

" _ **Very well mortal, his Hunt I will hold, and I will protect you until your child is birthed. In return, he will be an agent for my glory, a member of the great Hunt. The aspect of the wolf shall be gifted to him, and he will be one with the Pack and my own aspect."**_

Barenziah couldn't believe it. They were to be saved!

" _ **Know this however, mortal. The Hunt for him is not halted, yet postponed, and will be resumed when the Giant marches with old blood from an old heart. He will be gone from this realm, but he must return to end his Hunt. This he must do, as the Hunt must have an end and a victor."**_ Hircine spoke calmly and evenly, his voice holding no emotion.

Barenziah briefly pondered the alternative, which was death before his eyes even opened.

There was no questioning, there was no doubt.

"I accept, my lord." Barenziah said with a firm tone.

" _ **Your sacrifice pleases me immensely, little mortal. Close your eyes, and awaken as a free woman."**_ Hircine's voice was smooth and gentle, washing over Barenziah like a cool rushing spring. Barenziah closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall into the Daedra's embrace, carried off into the void where she would be watched and cared for until her son was born to her.

* * *

Tiber Septim would search for decades for the woman who carried his illegitimate child, only for every attempt to fall short and reveal nothing of the Queen's location. Eventually at the end of his life, Septim remembered nothing of his search for Barenziah, and reached the mighty state of CHIM. He used its power to become Divine, and live on so that he might watch over his beloved Empire, and became the God of War and Governance alongside the other faces of the Divines.

And Septim would forget all about the woman that he had lain with.

Until later, when led by Hircine's machinations, the Hunt would renew.

* * *

By the power that the woman in his arms had given him, Hircine took her and her unborn child far away from Tamriel. Away from Mundus and the Nirnian realm, across Aetherius, and through space and time itself. He eventually landed in a world very unlike the one that he called home, yet with similar governing Divines such as the damnable Aedra that ruled over Nirn.

He watched in silence, as those called here called 'gods' ruled over their world and their people with surprising efficiency, law, and divine right.

The greatest and chief among them called himself Zeus, a god of justice with complete power over the sky and all its deadly beauty. He ruled alongside his wife Hera, whose sphere was that of marriage, childbirth, and ruling as Queen alongside her husband.

Zeus' brother, Poseidon, ruled over the sea and everything residing in it as well as lording over all horse-kind. He was known as the stormbringer and the earthshaker, and was far more level headed than his older brother.

Zeus' second brother was named Hades, and his sphere was similar to Arkay's in many ways. Both presided over the dead and were the masters over the spirits of the fallen, yet Hades was a far harsher ruler, residing in an underground realm called the Underworld while keeping watch over a terrifying prison pit called Tartarus.

These brothers were the most powerful of all the gods, and the mortals they presided over took to calling them 'the Big Three.' The other gods were their family, most stemming directly from Zeus himself.

There were gods of all types, from wine and debauchery (Sanguine would surely love to accompany him, Hircine thought to himself) to messages, healing, war, love, and wisdom. These all surprised the Daedric Prince, as there seemed to be not a single aspect or sphere that wasn't resided over. However, there was one that caught his eye more so than any other.

There existed a patron of the Great Hunt in this world, a goddess who guarded its sanctity and raised the moon after every day. She was a patron of maidenhood as well, and cared for women with a fierce eye.

…

She would do.

Hircine knew that he could not stay in this world, even with the powerful pact made with him by the Queen. No matter what, the Daedra was still bound to Mundus and his sphere of Oblivion, and he would never be able to fully leave. Yet the only way for Septim, now crowned Talos, to not be able to sense Barenziah and his blood within her would be to place her in a place far outside that of Nirn.

And through the goddess of the Hunt here, he would be able to watch over the Queen and ensure that his soon-to-be champion would be safe from harm. There was only one thing that he needed to do:

Introduce himself.

* * *

 **Hope you guys like it. I tried to get old-timey speech down right, but I'm not really sure if it scans or not.**

 **Also, the next few chapters is worldbuilding crap, so just be prepared. It won't last long, but worlds gotta be built.**

 **Peace, you guys.**


	2. Prologue 2: Divinity

**So... just a quick couple of things. I made Zeus a little less ornery than he was written here. After all, he's less stressed out in the peak of his reign, I would think.**

 **Also still a little more world building before the meat and bones, _and _this is a half-finished chapter from its original author who never finished it so I tweaked it a bit(LOT), but it's probably not perfect. **

**Still, I'm happy, and the reason this is up in three days was because it was already half-finished. I'm not actually this fast.**

 **Peace.**

* * *

It was the day of the Summer Solstice, a day for much celebration among the Greek people. Celebrations and games filled the streets as shouts of joy and laughter filled the air (and money filled the pockets of stores and street vendors!). The longest day of the year was to be the greatest and most long-remembered of them all, and even as the Gods and Goddesses convened in their great halls on Mount Olympus they couldn't help but smile at the little mortals as their jubilation and shouts of praise reached their ears and hearts. On the Summer Solstice their godly powers were strongest, and as such the entire world was a little bit safer from monsters and other evils.

As the gods arrived by their own preferred methods – Zeus always arriving first by a flash of lightning, Hephaestus by way of a magical fiery portal from his workshop, Apollo by his sun chariot, etc. – they bade each other good tidings, and kept a smile on their face at all times.

They couldn't risk anyone seeing the concern that was on their minds.

One by one, the Olympian Council trickled in, meeting and greeting each of their family members in their own way before slowly adjourning to their respective thrones. As Zeus made his way to his, everyone stood out of respect until the sky god sat down.

"Let us all be seated." Rumbled the god, and everyone sat and listened to the king of the gods.

"My fellow Olympians, I bid you all good tidings on this warm day of the Summer Solstice. Today has been a joyous occasion for Mankind, and their praises can be felt by all present I should think, no?" A few nods of affirmation rippled throughout the council, and Zeus continued, "And yet, there is a great shift of power that we all have sensed as of late. A very old and powerful force, yet unlike that of any of the more ancient beings that ruled before us: the Titans, and even the Protogenoi."

"And let us not forget the sightings of new forms of monsters sprouting up everywhere!" yelled out Ares, the god of war. Athena dipped her head in assent.

"Indeed, brother. Great beasts with the structure of men have been spotted hiding in the dark corners of caves and sprinting at great speeds through forests. At first glance they might seem like a new form of monster, yet they have no evidence of Typhon's essence residing within them. They are far more dangerous than any Hellhound, and incredibly hard to kill."

Hades snorted at that, and shifted in his uncomfortable bench that had been provided for him.

"As much as I would desire call that statement preposterous, I cannot refute it. These… half-man, half-beast creatures… are incredibly powerful _and_ seem to be growing in their numbers, albeit slowly. Every other week it seems as if a new variant springs from its lair, first it was the wolves, then bears, even my _own damned_ Hellhounds!" Small whispers rippled throughout the council at Hades' conclusion and revelation, causing Zeus to tap his Master Bolt against the ground lightly, causing a small rumble to fill the hall.

" _Silence_." The council acquiesced, dipping their heads in apology.

"Now," continued the god of the skies, "we do not know if this is some ploy to attack us, or if it is simply a new god that has arisen in his own time. Regardless, we must keep our heads about us along with a level head. We will not fight this new power un—"

Zeus immediately ceased his instruction he realized there was an individual standing before them near the brazier at the center. He was obviously a minor god of some sort, if the stag skull that adorned his features was any indication along with a small amount of godly power.

"Is there some reason you have deigned to interrupt this council?" grated out Zeus to the newcomer, as the other gods suddenly realized he was there as well.

"You're right, you will not fight this new power," the god spoke with a soothing hiss. "That is, not if you want what you crave most as of now…"

The stranger suddenly grew in great height and power matching the large forms of the Olympians, while revealing a great and decorated spear that materialized in his hand, a ring depicting the caricature of a feral wolf on his left index finger, and a leather cuirass of which held the face of some sort of great beast. Scars that looked like they came from both blade and claw littered his body, causing most in the room to immediately ready their weapons in response. The items held by the being radiated his power, and the skull which adorned his head became more grandiose with the antlers spreading out in beautiful and intrinsic design.

His power changed in a heartbeat, its feeling becoming cold, unyielding, and familiar all at the same time. It was obvious that he was no god, yet rather something much more ancient and terrifying.

When the transformation was complete, the being in front of them was a foot taller than Zeus, who had risen from his throne in preparedness, and radiated his strange power like the very sun that Apollo raised every morning.

The being took a step forwards, causing the gods to ready themselves and their magical weapons in response. The being simply laughed out loud, causing the gods present to shudder at the sound.

He looked at the gods, simply staring at them through the skull's empty sockets before continuing, "Information, is it not? Now if you would, kindly allow me to enlighten your perspectives."

* * *

"These beasts are _YOUR_ doing?!" roared an irate king of the gods, "Explain yourself, trespasser!"

"Abate your aggression awhile Lord Zeus, and you will know why." Was the calm response. Zeus was livid, but indeed refrained from taking aim at the being in front of them.

"I thank you for your patience. My name is Hircine, and I am a Daedric Prince from the plane of Oblivion on Nirn." At the confused faces of the council, Hircine elaborated: "It should be understood that I am not from this plane of existence. Rather, from the aid of another, I flung myself to the universes in order to find a suitable world for my charge. Unfortunately, I can do nothing for the Were-beasts as they are an unfortunate side-effect of my presence here, but Lycanthropy is a great and powerful gift to any mortal. The realm of men here could greatly benefit from it."

"The beasts are of mankind? It would explain their states of existence," questioned Athena. Hircine simply nodded towards her.

"And who is this charge of yours? The one who was capable of your arrival?" inquired Artemis. Hircine smiled towards her.

" _Ahh_ , the one who presides over the Hunt in this realm. I bid you a fond welcome, one Hunter to another." Artemis did nothing to hide her distaste of the man who spoke to her. He may have been a god – or Daedric Prince, as he referred to himself – but by no means did she crave any sort of civility with him.

"Why the hostility? I simply greet you as a peer, and acknowledge your reign over our shared sphere of the Great Hunt."

Like a coiled spring, those present gasped at the revealed information almost nearly in unison.

"You protect the Hunt? But you… you are…!"

"A man?" provided Hircine. Artemis simmered, almost growling at the Daedra. "Oh, yes… I know all about your seething embitterment towards all things mortally male." She was stopped from getting out of her throne in rage by Demeter, who laid a hand upon her relative and shook her head at her actions, warning her against starting an altercation.

Hircine continued, "Oh, don't give me that scowl, I do not wish to attack your pre-conceived notion that I am simply a man, but I'll do so anyway for the sake of knowledge. Know this, goddess: Daedra have no gender. What is seen of me is simply how I wish to appear to anyone who sees my physical form." This tidbit of information caused the gods to whisper amongst themselves slightly, before Zeus tapped his Bolt on the floor of the Council building, ceasing the hushed conversations. Aphrodite spoke up:

"So you mean to say that you have no true gender?" Hircine nodded at the question. "Interesting. You would be an interesting being to… uncover…"

"Aphrodite!" Hera furiously shushed the goddess of love and sexual relations, while many of the other gods simply shook their heads in embarrassment. Hircine simply laughed outright, his helmet made of stag skull amplifying the laugh.

"HA, ha, ha, ha! You would not be the first to wonder, my dear. There have been many who desire physical relations with a Daedra simply because of the strange and esoteric nature of our true being. I take no offence. But as for my counterpart," Hircine gazed towards Artemis. Suddenly the Daedric Prince's form shimmered and shifted, becoming slightly shorter and well-endowed. The skull on the Daedra's head became smaller, turning into a mask of sorts that only covered the being's eyes with small antlers that rose about upwards about an inch.

The Olympians looked on in fascination and rapt attention, watching as the once male figure in front of them was slowly turned into a ruggedly beautiful female. Long, raven black hair flowed down the back of her leather cuirass, which had been altered to fit the female form more acceptably, and scars that covered her previous form had not left, still haphazardly placed all over her body.

All Olympians gathered watched as the now-female Daedra twirled around for added effect, laughing quietly as she did.

"Is this a more appropriate form for you, Goddess?" The being's voice had drastically changed as well, becoming softer and more musical, as if she could sing a lullaby at any moment. Artemis was shocked, unable to comprehend what she had just witnessed.

"Very well then, I'll take your silence as affirmation. But this is beside the point of which I come to you with." Hircine stabbed her spear upwards, then swiped downwards to her side. A black portal emerged from where she pointed, and once the void dispersed there remained a suspended woman with ash-grey skin, pointed ears, slanted eyes, and a leather cuirass not unlike the Daedra's own, curled up in a fetal position.

"This is Queen Barenziah Taeylis of the Dunmer race. She is currently a fugitive of the Empire of Cyrodiil and its ruler, and is the indisposed royalty of her homeland of Morrowind. As for why," The Daedra looked to the side in thought, before shrugging her shoulders in a mortal-like fashion, "well I'm sure that's her story to tell, _should_ she wish to tell it." With a flick of her wrist, the… Dunmer, as Hircine had called her, softly uncurled from her stasis and landed softly onto the marble ground of the Council floor. Hircine shimmered back to his male form (much to the disappointment – and chagrin – of a few choice males in the room as well as Artemis), and shrunk down to the size of the woman before placing a ball of inky-black oblivion in front of her eyes, causing her to awaken.

"My… my lord Hircine…? Where… do we…" Barenziah's eyes fluttered open, and she attempted to gaze upon her surroundings with tired eyes.

"Peace, little Hunted. We are far from comfort, displaced, on a differentiating plane of existence entirely. Gaze upon who would allow us here, fear them not."

The gods present each raised an eyebrow at the pretty way of speech that the Daedra used. Suddenly he spoke with an antiquated tongue, eloquence and respect heard clearly in each of the words used.

"Many blessings and thanks to you, o Aedra." Barenziah, now caught sight of the gods in front of her, prostrated herself before them with her face horizontal to the ground. She dared not look upon the beings in front of her. "May the blessings of Lorkhan and Kyne flow through you." Hircine chuckled slightly.

"They are not of the Aedra, little one. They are offspring of the Primordial powers of this world, though this does not mean that you shan't discontinue. Call them as they are: gods."

The surrounding gods were pleasantly surprised at the reverence radiating from the prostrated woman in front of them. A mortal from a different walk of life and heritage was bowed in front of them in complete acclaim, not even daring to look them in the eye. Zeus sat a little straighter in his throne, and spoke a little softer than normal.

"Rise, little mortal. It comes to our attention from this present god—eh, _Daedric Prince_ … that you are a fugitive of an Empire. Is this Empire of your land?" Barenziah remained where she was, almost as if she was incapable of doing so out of pure shock and awe.

"Nay, o gods. I hail from the land of Morrowind, my sires being the late king and queen of Mournhold. As they were lain into the ground, I took up their kingdom as their only surviving offspring and became Queen. I was taken from—"

"Hold a moment, little one." Hera interrupted softly. Barenziah immediately ceased her flow of words, terrified of offending the deities in front of her. The Queen of the Gods smiled, and spoke again, with a gentle, almost motherly tone.

"You need not remain where you bow, little one. You may rise and gaze upon us in discussion, as you have shown your reverence for us tenfold with much respect."

Hera could see that the woman in front of them was absolutely terrified to be in the presence of the gods. Most mortals would be in complete awe or shock, but instead she dared not look upon them in fear of their power. Indeed Hera was most pleased with the display, as was most gathered, but the goddess of marriage and motherhood couldn't help but call out for the girl's ease.

"I don't know," Apollo huffed jokingly, "I was enjoying the praise rolling off her. It was immensely more powerful than that coming from anyone below." Hera gave a short-tempered glare towards the sun god, who held up his hands in surrender with a smile.

"Steady on, mother dearest! It was simply a compliment for the little Queen."

"Perhaps you should hold your tongue, nephew. Your mother doesn't look like she is in the mood for your jocularity at the moment." Poseidon spoke up with a very small (almost imperceptible) smile on his lips.

As the Council died down, they returned their sights to the woman remained in her previous form on the floor, yet this time with her head raised slightly as to gaze upon the forms of the Olympians.

She was awestruck.

From childbirth till now, Barenziah had been taught of deities. Yet they were divine… untouchable and unseen. All this she knew, and even still seated before her were some of the most powerful figures of this world, almost the same nature as the Aedra of Tamriel, if Hircine's words were of any indication. They sat in a half-circle around a dais on the floor, made of a strange mix of what looked and felt like stone and metal combined. The entire hall radiated with power coming from the… gods… in front of her, a different type coming from each being.

The most powerful of them all was the one seated in the center, with a stern and overpowering force stemming from him, like that of a swirling wind that could crush someone with little effort. The smell of a fresh lightning strike surrounded him, and his throne seemed to embody this, as the back of it was an intricate design of a lightning bolt striking upwards into the sky. Although his very aura was empowering, he looked at her with a gentle face and looked steadily at her as if to gauge her.

To his right there sat a man with hair as dark as ebony metal, a stark contrast to the being next to him. He held a large three-headed spear that was colored blue, and would occasionally ripple as if water traveled down the length of it. A soft smile was on his face, reassuring and almost jovial.

At the master god's left a woman with the kindest and most motherly face stared back at her. She was dressed in fine jewelry, and her throne was that of some strange bird's plumage arranged in an arc.

A rather disfigured god fiddling with what looked like a small Dwemer machine.

A most beautiful goddess who seemed to constantly switch her face, each more beautiful than the last.

A god whose countenance was as bright as the sun.

A goddess on a throne made of vegetation, the majority of it wheat.

A somewhat grouchy looking god with small skulls adorning his fingers, hands, and wrists like twisted jewelry.

There were more gods and goddesses to the right and left, but Barenziah didn't dare be caught staring more than she already was. Slowly rising to her feet, she timidly looked the lord of the gods in the eye and began her tale.

"I-I was of royalty in my homeland, and it was either through fate or some cruel circumstance that I was brought – stolen, almost – to the great Empire of Cyrodiil. The Emperor, Tiber Septim, desired me after watching me from afar, and requested my presence in his chambers. As I entered, he asked that I lay with him, and in return he would ensure my people's prosperity and return to glory." Barenziah paused for a moment, as if she were remembering everything in her head with vivid detail. Realizing her hold, she began again with a softer voice.

"Septim's promises were something of both the most wondrous dream and most horrendous night terror. On one side of the coin, I was to lay with a committed and the most powerful and dangerous man in the known world… yet on the other if I did so then his word would bind him to my people's aid.

After a terrible disputation within my mind, I decided to lay with the Emperor and spend my night with him."

The gods in the room, even Ares, were listening intently to the story being told, not even slightly moving lest they disrupt the woman by accident. Though even as all eyes were locked on the young Queen, none's gaze was more intense than the moon goddess's, who was latching onto every word and shift in tone.

Barenziah continued: "Even as the deed was done, he repeatedly requested my presence during the nights as they led, assuring me that his spouse knew nothing of the altercations between us and expressing his hunger for… intimacy. I initially refused, but he grew hostile and spoke that he would rescind his agreement to assist my people. As I couldn't place my people in such a precarious situation, I accepted the following nights.

"Eventually my physician and close friend discovered that I had conceived, which meant my future child could be a threat to Septim's legacy, as his own wife was with child as well. Shiriah attempted to help me escape, but was killed in Septim's rage by a Shout. With the previous aid, I was able to escape the capital city and flee into the surrounding clearing where I would happen upon a shrine to Hircine, the Daedric Prince of the Hunt and Father of Were-beasts."

"So these creatures _are_ a part of your very sphere… interesting," Athena muttered whilst looking towards Hircine, still in his shrunken size alongside Barenziah. Hircine gave a slight smile.

"I would offer my apologies, but the gift of the Hunt is a powerful one. When those gifted learn to become one with their beast, they will become true masters of the hunt. My sphere is hence a collected one you see, and I am able to strengthen it as I am able."

"But what if those afflicted learn that they do not want their… gift?" The goddess of the Hearth, Hestia, spoke up from her throne comprised of bronze-gold flame.

"Those gifted with Lycanthropy have never chosen their past life over their new one. Their newfound power is something they may not understand at first, but will come to treasure in time." Hircine nodded while he spoke, leaning against his spear and appearing carefree.

"I believe we are getting slightly off-track, here." Hermes spoke out, occasionally shifting his attention to the twin snakes that seemed to be conversing amongst themselves. "Your Majesty, you were saying something about happening upon… Hircine's shrine?" Barenziah nodded towards the messenger god.

"Indeed my lord. It was then that lord Hircine created a pact with me so that my unborn child and I would be spirited to a safe haven, somewhere that – for the time being – Septim would not be capable of finding. There, my offspring would be safe and his power would remain uncorrupted from anyone sinister to attempt to twist it."

"Power?" Ares sat up in his throne at that, showing the slightest amount of interest in the current conversation at the information.

"Indeed; Septim was a being of great magical potential, and coupled with his being a _Dovakiin_ ," Hircine's good natured grin was gone, replaced by a serious, grim façade. "Well, suffice to say that his illegitimate heir would obtain his incredible power and abilities." Ares leaned in, intent on knowing what type of power the Daedra spoke of.

"What type of power? And what is the title you used… _Dovakiin_? What does this mean?" Hircine grinned, obviously very pleased that he would be able to explain.

"Why, my dear God of War… simply put? Septim's very essence – his soul in its entirety – was Draconic."

Zeus sat forward in his chair, for once unable to comprehend what the Daedra had just described.

"It means… that he was Dragonborn."

* * *

 **Thanks to N1CkHast, and Dastardly Destructive Detour for favoriting this. And thanks to ANON Rabato for leaving that nice review. It actually does mean a lot. This is my first fic on this site, and you gave it a chance. That's all I ever hoped for.**

 **Peace my dudes.**


	3. Prologue 3: A Dark History

**Heyo.**

 **So this was kinda rushed and I'm not that happy with it, but hey. I'd like to think it's not all that bad. Also I made my own line break, which kinda looks like a pair of... _teeth..._ now that I'm seeing it.**

 **Anyways, hope you guys like it.**

 **Peace.**

* * *

"Dragonborn? A mortal with the soul and mind of a Dragon? Impossible. If such a thing existed, it would be an affront to the entire species." Apollo chuckled to himself, leaning back in his throne with his cheek resting against his closed fist. Hircine shared the laugh with the sun god, before launching into the history of the great beasts known as the Dragons, and their mortal relatives.

"A very long time ago my relatives, the Aedra – or more specifically Akatosh, the chiefest among them, watched as man fell prey to the monstrous creatures that ravaged the world with fire, slavery and death. These beasts were of Akatosh's own creation, and thus were like his children just as how Lycanthropes are my own. These great beasts were – at the least – as big as a house, with heads that were big enough to fill a cart. They had great wings, were capable of flight, and were covered from their heads to their feet and claws and tail in nigh-impenetrable scales."

A few of the gods gathered, Athena more than the rest, listened with great care. Hircine seemed to be describing what seemed to be a drakon, but larger.

"Their gullets were capable of producing great gouts of flame, frost, and other such magicks gifted to them by Akatosh. These immortal, tyrannical beasts were called Dovah – or Dragons – and they subjugated the world of man." At this, Hircine summoned the misty visage of a Dragon in flight so that the gods would understand their description. Artemis was the first to speak.

"A terrible foe, to be sure. You say they were capable of magic?"

"Indeed!" Hircine nodded enthusiastically. "In fact, Dragons primarily focused their magic through their language, _Dovahzul._ Literally meaning 'Dragon voice' or simply the 'Dragon language,' by simply speaking certain words with heavy intent upon their meanings, Dragons could literally do anything, go anywhere, and rule anything they wished. They ruled the world of man with iron tooth and claw, and Akatosh looked upon his children and wept at their misdeeds."

Hircine let go of his spear, and the great weapon stood upright without aid. The Daedra gathered a silver mist around his hands, and then thrust it outwards, creating a series of moving images before the gathered gods. They depicted bloody and gruesome images of the _Dovah_ descending upon the various races of Tamriel, forcing mortals to construct great spires and monoliths in terrifying Draconic styles, and in a cruel sense of irony, appointing mortals to rule in their absence in exchange for power.

The images then switched to that of the mortals fighting back against their oppressors, futilely attacking the winged beasts with arrow, magicka, sword, and shield. Other races than that of men fought together, with the sole purpose of fighting for the freedom of their world.

Hircine turned the view again, bringing to the forefront a terrifying silver-black Dragon that held a horrifyingly kingly visage. White hot flames poured from its gaping maw, drenching the world below him in an acre of fire.

"The mightiest of all was the great Alduin. Known as the World-Eater and the Firstborn of Akatosh, Alduin set his sights on destroying the entire world, claiming it his destiny to do so in order so a new and better world should rise in its place. Aided by his brethren, the terrible winged destroyer brought the great Dragon War to Tamriel."

The visage then began to move, the black Dragon began to flap his wings and soar upwards. Alduin flew up high into the sky, and soon four other Dragons met him in the air before falling beside him. With Alduin at the head, they reared back as one, and bathed the army that gathered below them in a burning sea.

The gods gathered watched in horrid fascination at the scenes playing out before them, unable to comprehend the mass carnage. The only one who was not completely shell-shocked was Ares, and even the great God of War had to grimace at the devastation that he was watching.

Flesh, bone and sinew crunched as the beasts feasted on mankind without pause, blood filled entire valleys after even a single dragon had his fill. Bodies were nothing more than charred husks, and gathered together by slaves in order to be placed in a gruesome and twisted effigy for their master's amusement. Children were given up to their terrifying overseer's for them to toy with; they were made to perform ugly acts of cruelty on one another and when the masters were finally bored of their entertainment, the young were told to walk into their mouths, never to see the light of day again.

"That's… I can't…" Aphrodite began, completely unable to find the proper words. Her husband, Hephaestus, reached out to her hand, which she took in earnest.

"They were defeated, yes? You speak of them in the past tense; this _does_ mean that these damnable _beasts_ were cast down, yes?" Inquired Hermes, the Messenger God almost simmering in anger. Hircine clapped his hands, and the horrible images swirled around until they showed a new image.

"After watching the Dragons destroy the beings that she invested in, Kyne, the great Stormbringer and wife of Lorkhan, visited Alduin's very brother in his sleep."

The swirling image briefly flashed to a less imposing Dragon, tan in color and overseeing the carnage that his brother wrought from afar with calculating eyes. Above in the sky, the clouds formed the shape of an imposing woman her arms crossed in silent fury.

"Kyne forced upon Alduin's brother, Paarthurnax, the great injustices that he had been thrust upon mortalkind. Wracked with guilt and grief, the Dragon was instructed by Kyne to teach mortals the Way of the Voice, their very own _Thu'um_."

Paarthurnax was shown teaching the mortals the _Thu'um_ , showing them how to meditate upon the words, and how to imbue their very will and intent into each word spoken. Energy of all kinds poured from their mouths, and each could do wondrous feats that mortalkind should never have received, yet did because it was demanded of Paarthurnax, who took to his new profession willingly.

"However," Hircine twisted the scene again, showing a group of three individuals huddled in a dark room, illuminated by the energy frothing from their mouths. Their eyes shone of hate for their rulers, and with each word they spoke, they created a terrible shout that had never existed in the world before.

"There were some," continued Hircine, "who did more than simply meditate on the words of power. Fueled with rage and hatred towards their Dragon masters, three individuals pooled their knowledge to create a brand new shout, which would aid in the destruction of Alduin and his kin."

His next words shocked the already stunned gods to their very core: "They turned the immortal Alduin… mortal."

Whispers ranging from quiet shouts to furious ramblings broke out among the gods present.

"Impossible!"

"Such a thing isn't even possible, why…"

"Hecate's magic couldn't even create something of that scale!"

"Does he truly take us for fools?!"

"However," Hircine continued with his voice raised so that the gods returned their attention to him, "Alduin's destiny was so ingrained into the passages of time… that his essence could never truly dissipate. Alduin would simply revive to take his revenge and fulfill his ill-fated destiny once again, so the three concocted a plan. Using a great artifact, they sealed Alduin away into the void at his weakest moment, so that he would fall into nothingness for eons, until his own destiny would revive him once more."

The three were shown fighting Alduin, and mourning the loss of one of their own as their blood poured out onto the snow covered ground.

"After the tragedy, Akatosh looked upon what his children had wrought in despair. To make amends for his legacy, he touched the very essence of a young, ambitious native, and gifted him with the mantle of _Dovahkiin_."

A young man, strong and bold was lifted by a column of fire, wreathed around him like a twisting pillar of flame. When the flames dissipated, the man lifted his mouth to the sky and loosed a gout of flame that rivaled that of a dragon's power.

"This man was Miraak, and he was the first of the Dragonborn. Yet he strayed from fighting the Dragons that remained, and fled to the plane of Oblivion with one of my kin in order to pursue dark and forbidden knowledge. Ever since, Akatosh has given individuals throughout history this great power, and they have all been influential on the tides of time. Which brings us to the last Dragonborn to have been blessed with the _Dovah Sos_ , or Dragon Blood."

"The man that you flee from. Tiber Septim was his name, correct?" Zeus queried towards the Dunmer Queen, who nodded in affirmation.

"Yes my lord. By his account he was blessed with the power of the Dragons from birth, but many think he was gifted it the night before a great battle long ago. In any event, it is said that the Dragon Blood passes down through lineage—"

"Which I have confirmed, after tasting her unborn's deep power through our contract." Hircine walked back to Barenziah, and placed a hand on her shoulder before turning back to the gods assembled with a seriousness in his eyes.

"Septim would stop at nothing to end his accidental legacy if he knew that it survived. He attempted to slay Barenziah when she refused to give herself up to kill the unborn, and would surely continue if he caught wind of its location again."

Ares snorted in his seat, "Why not just simply kill the babe? Surely it would've solved your problems." He motioned towards Barenziah nonchalantly. Hera switched her gaze to the God of War, boring into his eyes with terrifying fury.

"I would hope that you don't repeat those words in my presence again, Ares. Mind who you speak among." Ares waved his hands in a placating gesture.

"Peace mother. I understand I speak against your sphere, but my point stands. Truly, you could have simply acquiesced and lived a danger-free life, so this begs the question:"

"Why did you not?" Asked a soft-voiced Hestia from her throne. The rest of the gods looked on towards Barenziah, wanting to hear the next words that she spoke. Barenziah herself looked down to the floor, gazing upon its intricacies whilst gathering her thoughts and feelings.

"I…" Barenziah trailed briefly, "I'm not entirely able to answer, I think. Perhaps if I had not known prior, then I most likely would have when it was brought to me. But when my friend showed me through a spell, the spark of life within my very being, I…"

Hircine raised a hand to her chin, and directed her face to upwards do that she didn't hide her face from the gods. "Acknowledge them, little one."

"I—" Barenziah fidgeted with her tongue, nearly unable to find the proper words before sighing and looking to the ground again.

"Truth to light, I do not believe myself able to provide a distinctive answer. Perhaps 'twas awe, or simple fear? Mayhap there was a sort of hope that I felt— hope for my _people_ , or maybe hope that I would not be without a legacy of my own." The Dunmer queen looked up towards the gods assembled, looking into each of their eyes and meeting their gazes with her own.

"Mayhap it was all of these things, or none at all! But I do know this: because of Septim and his murder of one who was considered family to me over the babe residing in my womb, alongside his willingness to kill me in order to contain his infidelity? I have one thing and _only_ one thing left in my life:" Barenziah's hands and gaze drifted to her stomach, gently roaming her hands around where her unborn child was located. They remained there before she snapped her head back upwards to look Zeus in his eyes with a fire that surprised him.

"This babe that resides in my being. My dear Shiriah was murdered to protect us, and my lord Hircine took pity on us and offered security. With such greatness to protect my babe, I will do as any selfless mother would do would they be me, and protect my future babe! I will guide them as they grow, and see them rise up to challenge their very existence!"

The Olympians watched as the woman before them stood stronger than ever before. Gone was the shivering wreck of a woman, and gone was the fearful façade. Before them they saw a being with the look of a terrifying mother bear, fearful of nothing and no one.

"They _will_ walk the world and watch with wonder, as I show them all that is beauty and _good_ in it! Never wanting for love or safety, I will protect all that they are and more!" Barenziah swept her gaze across the room again, searching each god's face for something that looked to challenge her or her future.

She found the exact opposite.

The gods gathered all watched with calm smiles on their faces. Even the God of War, who was smirking at the fierceness the woman exuded. The only one not smiling was the Queen of the Gods, who was most definitely not merely _smiling_.

She was _beaming_ , in both the figurative sense as well as literal. Because of the current praise she had received from the Solstice, as well as being within such a close proximity to one with such a fierce motherly glow inside of her, Hera was being filled with immense power and even greater joy and happiness.

Suddenly, startling all the gods gathered, she rose from her throne with a swift motion and stepped down to Barenziah, shrinking to a smaller size as she did so. When she reached the Dunmer, she stood still before her whilst still glowing like a torch and gently placed her hands to the side of the woman's face.

"Hear ye this, all present:" the silence in the throne room was so prevalent that if one strained they would be able to hear the faint sounds of jubilation occurring down in the mortal world down below.

"I hear the story of this woman, and as I do my very spirit bleeds for her. Hearing the raw and pure emotion stemming from her very essence during her tale of accomplishing whatever she could to protect her unborn child…" The goddess wore a smile that radiated her pride towards the Dunmer Queen's actions, looking as if tears might run down her face at any point from the sheer overload of emotion.

"I now place my protection upon this woman—nay, this mother." Hera's hands residing on the sides of Barenziah's face began to glow brighter, until the brightness slowly began to encompass Barenziah completely, so that her body shone with a radiant golden light.

"Her child will be one of destiny, born of blood and metal. Yet even as their destiny will be filled with strife and hard-fought, they will know happiness and love. There will hard times ahead, this I know in my being. Yet you, Barenziah Taeylis… you will live to see the babe within you become more than you ever could have believed." With her final word spoken, the Queen of the Gods shone as bright as the Sun Chariot that Apollo drove across the skies. Barenziah glowed right alongside her, the both of them shining like twin stars and bathing the entirety of the throne room in bright golden light.

Zeus watched with pride.

Poseidon watched with serenity.

Apollo and Artemis watched with great interest.

Aphrodite watched with love.

Demeter and Hephaestus watched with a slight grin.

Athena gazed with impasse, yet those who looked closely could see the small smile forming on her face.

Hades held his hands to his face, steepling his fingers and watching with intensity.

Ares pretended as if his interest was elsewhere, but secretly watched with fascination.

Hestia watched through half-lidded eyes, wearing a serene and kind smile.

Hermes watched whilst explaining the goings on to his twin snakes wrapped around his caduceus.

And Hircine? Hircine watched with a knowing grin, the expression hidden underneath his great stag helmet.

"Let all hear and heed! Queen Barenziah Taeylis is now under my protection, and as such she will be treated as the royalty she is! Let those who wish to take issue or qualms to her, bring them to me and I will lay them to rest. She and her child will be of a great and terrific destiny, and from this moment forth I shall forever be their patron until Thanatos claims their souls! So sayeth I, Hera! Queen of the Gods!" Hera's voice thundered out across Olympus, reaching the ears of every godly deity and underling that were present. The decree traveled far and wide, and through Hermes – who was using his godly powers over his sphere to send the message to all corners where their influence reached – it reached the very corners of the Earth.

As the light died down in the Olympian throne room, those gathered could hear the shouts of affirmation and acceptance from the streets of Olympus, and the world below them could be heard as well, cheering at the prospect of hearing from one of their deities and praising them for taking in and sheltering a woman with child.

Hera retracted her hands from the dumbstruck Barenziah, and smiled as brightly as she could towards her before walking back to her throne and growing back to her godly size. Her husband placed his hand upon her in worry when he saw her stagger slightly. Assuring her husband with a loving smile, the Matron of Family and Childbirth addressed the Daedric Prince that was now looking over Barenziah in awe.

"Lord Hircine. I feel like you are owed an…" Hera paused, blinking slowly for a brief period in order to get her bearings, "explanation… of sorts." The Queen of the Gods gazed down towards the Dunmer woman with a now loving gaze, as if the younger Queen was of her own flesh and blood.

"I placed my blessing, along with a small portion of my godly essence into Barenziah and her child. Danger will be hard pressed to find them, and they will be shielded from such as they grow and live their lives. Yet if Barenziah's little one will be as powerful as in the tales you told us of, even if they come across any such danger they will be granted to strength to deal with such a foe in any case. I myself will personally see to Barenziah's protection, and I have the ideal location for her in mind as I speak of this to you. Kaedos!"

At Hera's cry, a servant hurried into the throne room after appearing in a brief flash of golden light, her face calm and serene as she walked before the gods and bowed in front of their Queen.

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Please, take Barenziah to my home. You will attend to her every wish, and she will be treated as if she was my daughter. Respect will be given, is this understood?" The servant remained bowed, not moving as she spoke.

"Indeed, my lady."

"Thank you. I will arrive shortly, as soon as this meeting is adjourned. You are dismissed."

"Your wish, my lady." The woman turned towards Barenziah after being dismissed by Hera, and immediately bowed before the Dunmer as well. "Excuse me my lady, but if you would accompany me?"

Barenziah was still awestruck. A being considered a god had laid their hands upon her, and given her a godly gift of protection. Here, she was safe… but more importantly Septim had no chance of crossing over to this world. As the Dunmer Queen was led out by the servant Taedo, and disappeared in a flash to Hera's palace, there was only one thing on her mind.

She was safe.

 **-ϾǂϿ-**

"She is not safe," were the first words that exited Hircine's mouth as Barenziah left. "Not truly, anyhow. If nothing else, at the very least you've assuaged her fears."

"I figured as much," Zeus muttered. "That much power residing in her coupled with the power that her child has by its own? Danger will find her like a wolf can find bleeding prey, and the same will be true of any being who desires the power that girl now holds within her. Childbirth will be incredibly painful for her, to put it lightly." Hera gazed after her charge while her husband spoke, watching as the young woman was whisked away by her servant. Snapping back to the present, she returned her attention to the meeting at hand.

"The protection my wife imbued upon her was very powerful, and will make her stronger as her life continues. It is quite specific to sphere. Mothers, in particular. As Barenziah will be a matriarch herself, that power will only get stronger during her lifetime. However, because of its allure, there is a danger… and you have not been forward with us, if I am not mistaken." Zeus's gaze bored into Hircine, whose features were impassive through his stag helmet.

"You are quite correct, Lord Zeus," Hircine spoke with a sigh. "Barenziah is still hunted. My counterpart should be able to feel the pull of the Hunt upon her as well, I'm sure?" Artemis nodded slightly at this, nearly lost in thought.

"Indeed, I can feel the tether upon her. It feels… as if a frayed rope is fixing itself very, very slowly." She looked into the eye sockets of the skull that Hircine wore, staring the Daedra down. "Something powerful is after her, something you haven't warned her about."

Hircine sighed at this, growing back to his full size as he did so.

"To be fair, I actually _did_ warn her. The simple technicality, is that the first threat to her life is still the biggest threat to her continued existence." Hircine trailed off, and it was Demeter who spoke next with a grim finality.

"This 'Tiber Septim.' He is the threat, correct?" Hircine nodded at the goddess, and she continued. "I do not understand how a mere mortal – as powerful as he may be – could cross worlds as you have in order to… _hunt_ … her."

Hephaestus hummed in agreement, "You did say that you formed a deal with the woman, and that was how you were able to cross over. So how exactly would a mortal, albeit one of these Dragonborn, be able to do something that only a deity could accomplish?"

Hircine paced around the room as he was questioned, finally stopping and forming another image in between his hands. It was of a man, obviously Septim, glowing a bright myriad of colors, before becoming engulfed by them.

"Using a dangerous process, something that is considered impossible by all chance, Septim crowned himself a new title, Talos, and used a deadly practice known as CHIM." Hircine spat out the name of the art, as if it was a curse or some other deadly poison. "Without going into its intricacies for the sake of simplicity, if practiced and performed correctly in all aspects then it can… _ascend_ … mortals into a state of empowered immortality." Athena's eyes widened at the implications.

"They can—"

"Become a god, yes indeed," ground out Hircine. "A mortal achieving the state of godhood with a mortal's intentions is… perverse. There is nothing that is godlike through their decisions, as what they do and say is through a filter. It is the equivalent of a dog attempting to eat at man's table, believing itself actually a man!" Hircine's voice was raised tremendously, shouting out the last sentence in heated frustration and anger. Hermes was of like mind.

"We have elevated those considered worthy before, but the transformation affects the mind as well, molding it to see things from the perspective of godhood an all that it entails. It is the true gift of godhood, not the immortality or power, but the knowledge and wisdom that you receive. To think that a mortal with such power can do as they please, is an affront to godhood itself!" Many in room mumbled their assent, frowns (and in Ares' case, snarls) affixed to their faces.

"And therein lies the situation. With his new state of pseudo-divinity and my need to return to my own world, Talos will feel my presence as it returns to my plane of existence. As he is not strictly Aedra or Daedra, he has the power to leave Nirn as he sees fit. It will take time and much effort, yet he can and will find where Barenziah is. Of this, there is no doubt in my being."

The gods looked amongst themselves, curious and wary of the information they had just been given. Zeus was the first to regain composure.

"But… how will he gain this information? Just how powerful is he?"

"He will no doubt find me and interrogate me. It will be long, and it will hurt if I'm not careful. It isn't something that I'm looking forward to, being the prey instead of the predator."

"Y-you mean _torture_?!" Zeus thundered. Poseidon slammed his fist into his throne, denting the turquoise metal slightly inwards.

"This is unacceptable! We will not let another divine be put to a rack and flayed! You need not return at all, why do so at such a cost?"

The Daedra pushed up his skull helm and sighed, before speaking quietly.

"I am not the most selfless of Daedra, of this I have no shame. The other Princes are mostly of like mind, but there is one binding thing that keeps a thread of morality in us:" The Olympians listened earnestly, and Hircine whispered out, "our followers."

The Prince gave a sigh, sliding his stag skull off slowly as he did. His face showed a rugged visage, covered in dirt and scars and speckled in what looked like dried blood. The sclera of his eyes were a sharp pitch black, with the iris' a deep forest green which glowed subtly with power. Short-cropped, midnight colored hair glistened with sweat, completing the image of a tired huntsman.

"When Daedra gain those who deem themselves devout, it is not the same as it would be the Aedra. Our followers give us power, make us stronger and help us maintain physical forms on occasion." Hircine looked into the eyes of those gathered, before grinning, "Daedra exist, but man gives them power. Is this any different here?"

The silence in the room was almost palpable, those present staring with wide eyes at the godly being in front of them. All looked to Zeus, whose eyes were closed as he leaned forward with laced fingers.

"Indeed. Humanity gives us strength, and through them we exist. If they were to know—"

"Of course. I'm not so idiotic as to suggest such an event."

The gods gazed at him with new respect. He respected their intimate knowledge and didn't impose change upon their status quo, and not only did he understood that torture was very likely in his immediate future, yet he did not shirk from his perceived duty.

It was… impressive.

"I do not know if I will concede, but should I not then he will most likely use CHIM to discern her location. Getting here, however, will be a long process, even with CHIM." Hircine brought up a ball of silvery-white light, scrutinizing it while contemplating his next words.

"As for power? I do not know the limits that Septim's power has, or even if he can use it here at all. But what has been seen of it?" The Daedra paused, dispelling the power by enveloping it with his hand. "He could very well be unstoppable."

The Olympians looked amongst themselves, very aware of beings who bore such a description. In their experience, they were defeatable, but they were very hard to do so. In some instances, like their father Kronos, they never truly defeated them, instead trapping them in such a way that they wouldn't be able to escape if they didn't use incredible power to break free or waited for years to gather strength in secret.

Hircine suddenly swiveled on one foot, grabbing his spear that he had left standing on the marble floor behind him, and turning back to face the gods in one fluid movement.

"I do not know how long you all have. I am sorry for placing this burden upon you, but the Hunt cannot be ignored, and only ends when the hunter takes his prey, or if the prey escapes for good. A two sided coin, and yet it is weighted in Septim's favor." Hircine raised his spear above his head with one hand, and brought it down onto the floor of the throne room with a resounding _THWACK_! A portal comprised of inky black darkness surrounded him, and began to engulf his being entirely.

"I will endeavor to return when it is time for Barenziah's child to become my champion. When the child is of age, and ready to pursue the Hunt, let them take up my spear and use it to complete their Hunt. Until then, I do not know what will truly happen."

Before the Daedra was consumed by the portal, he jammed the butt of the spear into the center dais, forming a small crack in the floor as he did so that was immediately repaired through godly magic.

"The child must rise above his own blood. I trust your guidance will shape him until I return. Farewell, and may the Hunt overlook your bastion."

With that, Hircine, the Daedric Prince of the Great Hunt a, vanished, leaving the gods to contemplate their first steps.

* * *

 **Ight, so a couple things:**

 **I made Zeus a little less ornery, mainly because he's got less to worry about and he's a freaking _god of justice_ and all. Also, in response to Alexis Martinez, yeah there might be a few lesser dremora here and there. I mean... maybe...? I dunno. I still haven't figured out if Barenziah's _freaking_ _kid is going to be a guy or girl._ **

**Seriously. The gender could go either way. If anyone has any preference then feel free to input.**

 **Also I'm not the best self-beta, so if there's any mess-ups then it's just me being stupid and missing things.**

 **I think that's it.**

 **Peace.**


	4. Prologue 4: A Legacy Born

**Sup all. Kinda rushed this so I'm not happy with it, but I had a brief little 'light-bulb' moment about a whole lot of things. Wanted to get this out, and BAM.** **A last, final bit of prologue-ness before I start with actual story, so enjoy peace while it lasts.**

 **I also tried out a weird Suicide Squad thing, so that had a partial bit of my attention. That's my excuse for lateness. TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT.**

 **Peace.**

* * *

The very air was tense across Olympus. Whether it was from the worried immortals and deities or a direct result of Zeus feeling on edge was a matter up for debate, and as everyone milled about trying to do their business or work there was a distinctive feeling of collective worry.

And it was all towards a certain Dunmer soon-to-be mother.

Barenziah was currently in the throes of childbirth, surrounded by a slew of Hera's personal handmaidens and being tended to by the goddess herself.

"Steady, little one. Do not cause your mother any more discomfort than she already feels." Hera's words seemed to have an effect, as the babe ready to leave her womb seemed to go slightly still, calmed for the moment.

Barenziah herself was resolutely facing the ordeal with a stern expression, sweat running down her tired yet gentle visage. She would not show weakness in front of the goddess, she—

" **Eeeeaaaagggghhhh!"** Barenziah could no longer hold onto her emotionless mask she had been wearing for the past hours. The pain simply was too great, even with the handmaidens and the Matron Goddess at her sides. Hera continually attempted to use her godly powers to soothe the woman's pain, but it seemed as if it was having no effect on her at all. The Queen of the Gods racked her mind, wondering what could possibly be wrong with her charge…

 **-ϾǂϿ-**

" _You say that anyone can use magics in your world?" Hera was currently discussing the intricacies of Barenziah's world, Nirn, with the Moon Goddess Artemis over a calming cup of tea on the terrace of her palace on Olympus._

" _Indeed my lady, magicks are quite common where I hail from. I myself am not well versed in some of the more intricate schools of magic such as the schools of Alteration or Illusion, but I was taught heavily in Restoration and Destruction. I also know enough to be labeled passive in the tree of Conjuration, but my specialty is that of the Destruction tree." To accentuate her point, Barenziah held out a palm and conjured a small bout of flame that she shot upwards, creating a small pillar of flame that she soon dispelled._

" _Amazing…" Artemis whispered. Over the past months the maiden had slowly begun to care for the Dunmer, speaking frequently with her and learning of the world that she had abandoned. "How many schools are there in total?" Barenziah took a sip of her tea in thought, before swallowing down the calming substance._

" _It's been some time since my last lesson, but if my memory flows correctly then I believe there are… six? Nay, seven. Eight by technicality: Restoration, Conjuration, Destruction, Illusion, Mysticism, Alteration, Thaumaturgy, and the Art of Enchanting."_

" _That is quite a sum few." Remarked Hera._

" _Indeed. And you say that anyone in your world, even a babe, has the capability to hold such power?" Artemis leaned forward, placing her cup down in thought._

" _Of course, though only through great practice and strengthening of body and spirit can someone grasp the powers of magic. Someone the age of child wouldn't be able to produce much more than a few fizzling bouts of sparks. Strangely though, I was a special case." At this, the Dunmer queen slowly and quietly placed her cup of tea down on the wooden table, seemingly lost in a memory. The two goddesses glanced at each other, a questioning look passing between the two of them._

 _Barenziah sighed, bringing the two Olympians' attentions back to the almost melancholic woman._

" _Forgive me," Barenziah spoke softly, "I simply yearn for the touch of my family. It is not in my destiny to see their smiles directed at me ever again. The thought just… touched me, for a moment." Hera slid her chair back and stood, her bare feet barely making a noise against the pristine white mosaic that adorned the open balcony. The queen of the Olympians walked slowly over to the railing, leaning her hands against it whilst looking out over the valley that her palace resided over._

 _The three simply enjoyed the rustling of the breeze as it flew by, until Hera responded._

" _Did you know that I once thought that I would never see my mother again?" Barenziah didn't respond, simply choosing to look at the goddess with a questioning expression._

" _Rhea – my mother – was a Titan, one of the beings that I told you about which preceded us. It was by her machinations that the Olympian Council does not currently reside within the stomach of our father, Kronos." Barenziah's eyes widened at that._

" _I beg pardon?"_

 _Hera gave a wry grin. "Listen awhile, Barenziah. My father and his siblings toppled the Old Rule of Ouranos, but when they did so, Ouranos called out to him and claimed that one day Kronos' children would topple him the same way that he had toppled Ouranos."_

 _As Hera spoke, she took ahold of a flower from a nearby pot. The plant began to move, slithering like a living being around her fingers._

" _He didn't believe it right away due to his immense hubris, but as the eons passed he began to believe the words more and more."_

 _The goddess held the center of the flower up to her face, seemingly seeing something in its depths as the story progressed._

" _And so when my mother became with child, Kronos requested that he be present during the birthing. When my mother finally begat us he grabbed each of us and swallowed us whole, one by one. When it was time for my Zeus to be born, she requested that her handmaiden retrieve a large boulder for Kronos to swallow in his place. Kronos didn't even think to look at the stone, he simply gulped it down without hesitation."_

 _Hera finally placed the flower back in its pot and returned to her seat with the other two women. Her cup of tea had remained at its full temperature throughout their meeting, and she took a long drought of the calming drink. Being a goddess she had no need to eat or drink, but she always enjoyed the action of doing so. It gave her a sense of contentedness that she never felt anywhere else._

 _This was the feeling that mortals had throughout their lives, and if Hera was honest with herself, she was a little envious._

" _The fool hadn't even realized that he had swallowed the wrong thing," continued Hera. "And when my mother was ready to give birth to Zeus, she left to a secluded island and gave birth. Once Zeus was strong enough to fight our father, he took ahold of Kronos' great scythe and cut open his stomach and rescued us who were swallowed whole. Once we had been freed, our elder sister Hestia grabbed ahold of Kronos and allowed Zeus the opportunity to decimate him. With the scythe Zeus was able to cut our father into millions of tiny pieces, which we then promptly gathered and tossed into the darkest pits of Tartarus."_

 **-ϾǂϿ-**

"Just a little more, little one. You're doing so well!" Barenziah couldn't tell through the haze of pain whether or not the goddess was speaking to her or her expectant. But in her current state, it was of little matter to the soon-to-be mother.

"Barenziah, you are _magnificent_ my dear. Just keep pushing onwards, hold out just a little while longer and your child will soon be with us!"

Barenziah wanted to acknowledge her Lady Patron, to confirm that she would not break to the pain. She opened her mouth, and instead of affirmation another scream tore from her throat.

" **Eeeeaaaagggghhhh!"**

 **-ϾǂϿ-**

 _The sharp_ **RANG** _and_ **CLANG** _of a hammer striking an anvil reverberated all throughout the forge, as Barenziah shaped a small bronze ingot out into its shape._

" _Remember now, you're not just making the blade, but the stem as well. A blade is all well and good, but it needs to be held to be swung." Hephaestus called out from over the sounds of the workshop. He watched as the Dunmer swung the hammer with purpose, and was pleased at the progress she had made in just a few short weeks. When the young woman had initially arrived, she soon found herself on his forge's front steps looking for familiarity to fill her time._

 _She may have been doted on hand and foot by his mother and her subjects, but he couldn't exactly fault her for wanting to find something to do. He knew better than most that idle hands made for self-contempt and a fretful mind._

" _It's not enough to simply apply heat and restart after the blade has started to cool, you must continually work with the grain of the metal," Hephaestus cautioned his charge. "Too much pressure can be your enemy as well. A mindful smith must even their strikes, and remember that the blade is not present yet. You are making it from a fragile material that can and_ will _wear."_

 _Barenziah returned the nearly finished blade to the pit once more for a final heating, wiping sweat from her brow as she did so. "Does that not require complete omniscience of the blade? How can one observe the entire metal's being whilst shaping it?"_

 _The Smith God chuckled. "You are not incorrect, little one," he grinned at the Dunmer before sending a blast of fire to the pit and heating the metal back almost instantaneously._

" _You are not the first to wonder how it is done, and the only advice I can give you is that of crypticism: you will know when the blade speaks to you through your own actions." Barenziah gave an unladylike snort._

" _If not completely unhelpful, that_ is _indeed cryptic." Barenziah reached back with a gloved hands and took up the nearly shaped blade from its resting place, taking up the hammer once she was ready. The weighted metal struck in succession once more, filling the room with the sounds of a workshop once again._

 _Hephaestus guffawed at the girl's answer, and resigned to watch with a careful eye the last few processes that required special attention. With every swing of the hammer, the ashen skinned woman grunted with exertion, her every motion keyed to her current desire: forging a weapon of her very own. She had been stopped by her Lady Hera, who had shown concern over her exerting herself in such a manner. Early into her second month, the elven woman's determination had eventually worn down the goddess with the assurance that she would be perfectly aware of the newborn inside her._

 _Hephaestus had taken her under his wing immediately, partially at her natural talent when it came to forgework and partially at her nonchalance at his deformed appearance (the latter of which made him incredibly happy, even though there wasn't any way she could have understood the significance of her actions to him)._

 _Barenziah grunted one last time, the shape of the blade outlined and formed as she set the hammer down to the side and quenched the blade in oil._

" _Alright, I think you've done quite the job today," praised Hephaestus. Taking the nearly cooled blade from her hands, he brought it up to his face with an appraising eye roaming its surface._

" _Well? Is it adequate for a recent convert such as myself?" Barenziah leaned against the anvil next to her, swiping a gloved hand across her brow once more. The grime from the handwear had left a rather large streak across her face, and coupled with the sweat covering her body it lent for a visage that told anyone who laid eyes on her that she was a hard-working woman._

 _Hephaestus set the blade down, and chuckled at the sight of the young girl in front of him. Not even at her second decade of life, and yet even with the threat of danger poised at her unborn she still walked with a fervor he had only seen in warriors past. Raising a hand and letting it fall down across her, Barenziah soon found herself as clean as when she had first entered his forge that day._

" _I will refine this for you little one, as I believe you have a meeting with Hecate soon, do you not?"_

" _Damnation, I had nearly forgotten! I almost do not wish to meet now, with my exhaustion as it is," Barenziah slumped against the anvil, the effort from the day having fully realized itself inside her._

 _The Forge God chuckled at the girl's antics, noticing how similar she was to some of his own daughters when it came to the topic of appointments. "Your decision won't hold water with her, Barenziah. Her curiosity with your magic is not something comparable to a random trinket."_

" _That doesn't mean that I plan to stay for very long."_

" _Ha! I would wish you luck, but I wouldn't trust my own words!"_

 _Barenziah headed towards the door, taking off her gloves as she did so. "I wish you a good day, my Lord."_

" _You, my dear Barenziah," Hephaestus smiled as warm as his forge fires, "may simply refer to me as Hephaestus. You honor me enough with who you are."_

 **-ϾǂϿ-**

Barenziah was no stranger to pain. She had been cut, stabbed, burned, frozen, bruised, and exhausted to the point of near death over the course of her lifetime, yet she had come out each and every time no worse for the wear with only a distant memory as a reminder (restoration magic was rather impressive that way).

Yet as the Dunmer lay on her bed with Hera by her side, the magics that were directed towards her pain seemed nonexistent. Barenziah's sharp mind tried to focus on why that might be, instead of the—

" **Graaaaaaaaaaahhhh!"**

 **-ϾǂϿ-**

" _Again!" At her lady's beckoning, Barenziah readied herself for another blast._

" _HAH!" A gout of fire erupted from her outstretched palm and incinerated the target in front of her. The wood was there in one moment, and in the next there stood in its place a pile of smoldering ash._

" _I don't understand my lady, I have struck nearly fifty-and-three of these faux enemies down to rubble. Do you not wish to observe the other schools of magic?" Barenziah wiped the sweat from her ash-grey skin and turned to the Mistress of Magic, the goddess Hecate._

" _Little one, I don't require you to understand. I simply need you to do as instructed. Now—" the goddess summoned another wooden target, and removed all traces of the previously disintegrated. "Again."_

 _Barenziah frowned, dispelling the fire burning in her palm._

" _Forgive me my lady, but I have nearly exhausted all but a grain of my reserve. I believe that I am owed some explanation as to why I am running myself ragged with these…_ 'trials…' _as you put it. I was told my lady Hera that I need to rest this morn, yet nonetheless I am here of my volition and assisting your interests. Why is this?" Barenziah stubbornly stared directly into the goddess' eyes, before the stern immortal finally relented and conjured a table set for herself and the Dunmer._

" _Very well… sit with me awhile."_

 _Barenziah acquiesced, coming to rest across from the Goddess of Magic. Two cups appeared in a bright violet light, and were filled with a grape scented tea that sent pleasant shivers down Barenziah's spine. The Dunmer noticed as she took the cup from the lilac colored table cloth, just how much the goddess seemed to love the color purple. From the dress she wore, to the jewels that hung from her ears, and even coating the tops of her nails like a strange paint._

" _It's because of my mother."_

 _Barenziah shook herself of her thoughts, and stared at the deity before her, questioning in her eyes._

" _The color of violet, and why I exude it in practically every way." The goddess sipped elegantly at her tea, eyes closed in satisfaction. She returned her cup to the table and leaned back in her chair, staring into Barenziah's eyes all the while. The two sat in silence for a short while, sipping their tea until Hecate finally spoke with a sigh._

" _I thank you for your patience with me. I realize that I can be quite… uncouth at times. This isn't my intention, I assure you."_

 _Barenziah shook her head lightly. "Nonsense my lady. I have met many an uncouth encounter throughout my terse existence, yet you do not strike me as such."_

" _Your words are kind, little Queen, yet they do not excuse my actions thus far today. An explanation is owed."_

 _The goddess lazily aimed a single finger towards the target sitting some feet away, and a small stream of flames shot towards the wooden opponent and set the whole thing ablaze in an instant. Yet nearly as quick as the flames began to spread, they sputtered out of existence as if they never existed— the only trace remains being a small charred area around the target area, the smooth marble coated in a ring of soot._

" _Did you notice anything interesting, Barenziah? Anything… strange, perhaps? A difference between yours and my actions?" Hecate raised a brow at the elf, while Barenziah could only see the vast difference in power between them both. She was about to voice this, but the goddess gestured towards the target with a wave. "Go ahead then. Try for yourself."_

 _Barenziah stood from the table quietly, and took aim as instructed. Her magicka nearly restored completely, she summoned an_ 'incinerate' _spell and fired it towards the target. In a bright and brief flash, the target was once more caught in a blaze, yet this time it did not go out. The target was vaporized just like all the ones that had predated it, and Hecate swept the ashes away like she had all of the others prior._

" _Well? What do you think is the defining moment here?"_

" _Why didn't you dispatch my flames as you have yours?"_

 _Hecate smiled at the Dunmer's question, and waved her hand about the area, and suddenly Barenziah could see a dark violet haze permeate the area. It was like a thick layer of smoke, but magical in its essence. The elf waved her hand about and watched as the mist-like curtain moved about her hands in wonder._

" _This is a_ Dispellment Coating _. I've been consistently adding more and more power into this spell, trying to nullify your magic and leave it inert. But for a reason that I've not yet discerned—"_

" _You can't block my magic…" Barenziah breathed out, to which Hecate didn't even blink at the interruption._

" _Indeed."_

 _Barenziah couldn't believe what she was hearing. The goddess of all things mystical and magical had essentially just told her in totality that she could not negate Barenziah's own spellcasting._

" _How can this be my lady?"_

 _Hecate sighed, taking another sip of her fruity tea as she did. "As to the best of my knowledge? Your magic is so esoteric to our own that there is no way for yours to be stopped by any conventional means. So far only your magic can negate your own, as I've seen with the wards you've casted. It would seem that I've found something that my sorcery simply cannot control: yours." The goddess placed her drink back down and followed Barenziah's gaze._

" _The magic of our realm cannot influence you. It cannot effect you in the slightest, and that is what both intrigues me and terrifies me."_

 _Barenziah slipped quietly back into her conjured seat. She could now understand why the goddess had been as focused as she had been earlier, and gazed over to the spot that the targets had occupied._

 _If her magic couldn't be warded off by the Goddess of Magic herself… what would that mean for the future?_

 _What would it mean for her child?"_

 **-ϾǂϿ-**

The pain was getting unbearable, almost too much for Barenziah to be thinking coherently. Hera continued to work her own magic, yet she had no idea that her magic was practically as useless as lighting a candle against a hurricane.

"The babe is coming, my lady! The head is showing itself!"

"Very good, Illethia!" Hera turned her attention back to Barenziah, and began to pour more and more magic into her charge. Soon her power was shining like a small sun, seeping into the young woman and her child like a sponge with water.

Hera refused to let one that she cared for feel this much pain, and if that meant doing all that she could… then that meant doing _all_ that she could.

"My lady, the child is arriving! They are almost out!"

"There! Cut the cord, Kaedos!"

Several tense seconds later, the beautiful and breathtaking telltale sounds of a baby's crying rent the air. As Illethia held up the babe for her mother to see, Barenziah felt herself crying once more, only this time they were tears of joy.

A bouncing baby boy with ashen grey skin lay in her arms, covered in fluids and grime but wailing with a set of lungs that only lent credence to his heritage. Tiny twin points on his ears evidenced his mother's own ancestry, and made for a wonderful sight for the Dunmer woman to see. His arms flailed lightly, seeking some form of comfort in his newfound coldness. Hera snapped her fingers, and in a brief flash all of the fluids had been wiped away, and a warm blanket had been wrapped around the infant's body. The goddess took ahold of him from her handmaiden and deposited the child in his mother's arms, and couldn't help but shed a few tears herself at the sight.

It had been a long journey in such a short period of time, but Barenziah had delivered her child in peace and safety. There had been terrifying and wondrous things that had happened upon them both, and despite it all they had finally met face to face.

Mother and son. Barenziah's child was introduced into the world by a booming declaration from the Queen of the Gods herself, and as her little boy calmed himself the young queen drifted off into a content and exhausted sleep along with her child.

Septim's legacy had finally been born.

* * *

 **Sooo... there it is.**

 **A baby boy was the outcome of the decision. Had some help deciding from some lovely PM's though, so thanks (you know who you are.)**

 **Also thank you guys for the reviews, they mean a lot:**

 **GUEST : Good observation with the Dragonfires, it was kind of in the back of my head in regards to how Hircine just kinda **_BLOOP_ **ed his way onto Earth. As to the champion thing, in this continuity Hircine hadn't been worshiped in a _very_ long time due to Septim outlawing the worship of Daedra in the Empire. No followers means no one to champion. I thought I made it kinda-sorta evident, but I'm seeing now how it was really darkly veiled. Hope this clears that up a bit.**

 **Hingo2 : I have an idea that I'm toying with in regards to the kid having the ability to Shout, but I'm not sure if it'll quite work out. The good news is that I don't have to figure it out for a while. Also, fun fact: this story actually survived because I was talking with a friend of mine about how screwed up Talos just really was, and how peeved I was that every story ever just kind of ignores how he butted his way into godhood. Very few stories out there make him evil, and I really wanted to make a story about that, and he told me that he had. He hated where he went with it, and said if I wanted to mess with it or just outright take it I could.**

 **Peace.**


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